


Pining

by SuzieCutie



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Clover relentlessly harasses Hoxton about his personal life while he's trying to make hot cocoa, Dallas and Hoxton can't openly discuss their emotions because they're idiots, Established Relationship, M/M, Payday Secret Santa 2017, Platonic Clover and Hoxton interactions, Slow Dancing, Tender sweet talk, Yanno sibling shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzieCutie/pseuds/SuzieCutie
Summary: “What a jackass.” He dragged his hands down his face, smiling like an idiot, “What an absolute fucking jackass.”





	Pining

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookperkdeck](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=crookperkdeck).



> For one of my dearest friends, who I cherish immensely.  
> Merry Christmas, Hoxxy. Sorry for the wait.
> 
> ###  [❄️ RECOMMENDED LISTENING ❄️](https://soundcloud.com/alexburey/alex-burey-unspoken)

In their years together, Hoxton had somehow forgotten how many Christmas decorations were tucked away in the basement. Just boxes upon boxes of garlands, pearls, ornaments and tinsel just waiting to be rummaged through. If Dallas wasn’t so serious about having the most over the top Christmas parties, he’d have tossed some of them out by now. Or, well, at least that’s what he told himself while he was splayed out on the floor beside him. Maybe it was his frustration talking, he wasn’t sure.

“This is god damn ridiculous.” 

The tree Dallas had picked out was delivered earlier that day, and he made every single soul come down to observe while it was being put up in the living room. The tip of it stood taller than the upstairs guardrail, and it was a miracle that it was even able to fit through the garage doors. It was the Christmas tree to end all Christmas trees, as he put it. But as far as Hoxton was concerned, it was just an unnecessary mess of pine needles and tree sap on his nice hardwood floors. He loved Christmas, this wasn’t a secret, but this was just overkill.

“Hey, it’s not _that_ bad. At least the boxes are marked.”

The real trouble came when the word ‘decorating’ was brought up, and it was why they were in the predicament they were in now. Nothing goes on the tree, or anywhere else, until the star is at the top; That was Dallas’s rule, and he refused to do it any other way. This wouldn’t be an issue, if the star he insisted on using was anywhere to be found. They’d been in that basement for god knows how long, tearing into boxes trying to find the thing. Too many hours spent on the cold cement floor, and Hoxton’s hope that they’d find anything soon was running thin.

“It is _that bad_. The boxes are marked, but none of them say ‘star that you’ve been looking for for five fucking hours in a freezing basement’.” Hoxton was taking his little frustrations out in sarcasm, something Dallas was very used to.

“Well, when we find it, I’ll be sure to do that for next time. I don’t want to be stuck down here any more than you do.” He gave Hoxton a side-eye, before pulling a fresh box over to his lap. Goody goody.

“Maybe you should throw some of this old stuff out so there isn’t so much to dig through. Some of these candy canes look like they’re from before colored television.”

That got a chuckle out of Dallas. With how things have been going as of late, it wasn’t all that often they got to laugh together. Work got in the way, or heists made things too stressful. That, and with so many things on the horizon, the two of them didn’t exactly have the time to relax in each other’s company. It was a pity that the first time they got to sit together and talk by themselves in so long was when they were stuck digging through boxes.

“Why is this specific star so important, anyway?” Hoxton piped up after some quiet, glancing over at him.

“Uh… It was my mom’s. She used to send me ornaments in the mail when I was out across the country. I guess it was her way of saying I was still in her thoughts.” 

“Ah, so it’s a mummy’s boy situation. I understand.” Now he was just pushing buttons to push buttons, and that earned him a shove. 

“It’s also a damn nice star, and I like how it looks. So you can wipe that look off your face.” 

“Yes sir.”

Silence fell over the two of them again, and Hoxton let his thoughts wander a bit. He knew that Dallas always loved the holidays, but Christmas had become a whole new monster as of the last year. Flashy parties had never really been part of Dallas’s modus operandi, so for him to suddenly be going all out was honestly a bit jarring. In the time before he’d gone to jail, Hoxton always thought him to be more reserved than that. He knew that Dallas had changed as well over those two years, but this seemed like such a bizarre thing to fixate over. 

When he realized he’d been staring into the same box of fake icicles for the past few minutes, he shook his thoughts away and shut it tight. There wasn’t really a use in just sitting around daydreaming.

“How much of the closet have we dug through?”

“About half of it, give or take a few,” Dallas glanced at him, “Doesn’t go any faster when you’re staring into boxes though.”

Ah, he noticed.

“Yeah, sorry. This isn’t exactly the most exciting thing I had planned for my evening.”

“Oh I’m sure you’d love to go back to filing things in the office.” Dallas cracked a smile at him, and he felt something old and foreign pang in his chest. It wasn’t often he felt pangs like that, but when he did, he couldn’t help but smile too. He had that sort’ve effect on him.

“At least the office doesn’t feel like a meat freezer.” Shaking his head, Hoxton came to his feet, brushing any dust off of his pants, “I’m going to get some hot chocolate, or something. You keep looking for that damn star, and I’ll bring you some, alright?” 

Maybe it was something in his tone that caused Dallas to reach out and take his hand, but regardless of his reasoning, it still startled him. He could only look down at him in question, his brow furrowing while he ran his thumb over his knuckles.

“What, are you going to miss me too much?” 

“Maybe.” The smile on his face only grew, “But I did… want to tell you that I’m glad you’re here.”

“Glad I’m here, helping you rummage through old boxes and getting pneumonia from the cold? You’re so sweet to me.” He couldn’t help but be sarcastic.

“No, Jim. I mean, I appreciate the help but I mean… in general.” He was visibly regretting saying anything in the first place, but despite this, he squeezed Hoxton’s hand, “I don’t get to tell you that often.”

In turn, Hoxton just stared at him. He stared at that flustered expression, and the way his goofy smile spread to his eyes. It wasn’t often that Dallas showed his vulnerabilities, or acted outwardly affectionate, so this was quite a surprise. He was full of a lot of surprises lately, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Are you getting soft on me, Mr. Steele?”

“Only for you.” Oh, what a charmer. He even went as far to kiss the back of his hand.

“Kisses aren’t going to make up for all of the pine needles I’m going to have to sweep up once this party’s over.”

Dallas could only roll his eyes and give his hand another squeeze, before letting go. That same something panged deep in his chest again, but this time, it ached more. In the cold of the basement, he missed that little warmth of his hand in his.

“I’ll keep looking, you can go get that cocoa you mentioned. Hopefully I won’t freeze to death before you get back.”

Hoxton lingered for a second, still staring at him while he started rummaging again. He thought about his words while he turned to head up the stairwell to the garage, letting them echo. It felt nice hearing him say sweet things again, but something in the back of his mind flickered with doubt. He wasn’t sure why he’d say something like that all of a sudden, seemingly unprompted, but it’s not like he was complaining.

Brushing past the obnoxiously large tree that sat in the living room, he started towards the stairs up to the kitchen, bewilderment still flat on his face. Between the over-festiveness and the sudden acts of affection, something felt off, and it was going to nag at him until he got to the bottom of it. That was one of the many downsides to his natural inability to let anything go ever.

The safehouse had been relatively stagnant, with people off doing their work or taking the day off at the sleeping quarters. That, and it was getting late, so less and less of the gang was loitering around. He hoped that this would mean he could have some quiet to think as he came to the top of the stairwell, but that was very wishful thinking.

“Hey dickhead.”

Very wishful thinking, indeed.

Clover was as sweet and gracious as always. She was leaning against the counter, next to the coffee machine. For all he knew, she could’ve just woken up. It wasn’t that strange for her to crawl out of bed in the middle of the afternoon, or crawl into it for that matter. He had absolutely no clue how she managed to function with such an abnormal sleep cycle, but that was her business, not his.

“Hello, you little bastard.” He spared her a wave. Normally, he’d have given a snappier comment, or made a joke about how terrible she looked, but he wasn’t really in the mood for it. And she picked up on that very quickly.

“Oh boy, did something happen? You’re not as much of a jackass as you usually are.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit. Tell me what’s up.”

He gave her a ‘please don’t do this’ look, but he knew that wouldn’t stop her. She was astoundingly stubborn, and stuck her nose in his business too often, but she meant well. He knew she cared about him, and she only did what she did because of that. It didn’t mean it didn’t annoy him any less when she got pushy, though. And she adored getting pushy.

He trusted her though. There weren’t many people he could talk to very comfortably, and not many people were as close to him as Clover was. It came from their strange sibling relationship, or what he perceived as a sibling relationship. Maybe that was asking too much.

“It’s just some nonsense that I’ve been thinking about. You don’t need to worry about it.” He stepped past her to ferret around in the cabinets. In turn, she moved to face him, giving him a judging look.

“I worry about everything under the god damn sun, so adding something else is just another drop in the lake. Talk to me, Hoxton.” She was putting on a much more genuine tone, and that only made him sigh and slump his shoulders with the little box of hot chocolate packets in his hands.

He was really going to have to spill his guts to her, wasn’t he.

“It’s Dallas.” Idly, he reached for one of the pan on the stove.

“I figured. What about him?” 

“Everything?”

“Start with one out of the everything, then.” She was sitting on the counter now, mug in hand. This was starting to look like a mock therapy session you’d see in a movie. Except the therapist was a terribly paranoid Irish woman in her PJ’s, and the patient an emotionally confused Brit with too much on his mind.

He sat there for a second while pulled a carton from the fridge, filling the pan with milk and staring down at the counter. Find a start. That was easier suggested than done, that’s for fucking sure.

“He’s being weird, that’s the only way I can describe it.” He started to fidget, scratching the back of his neck. He could feel her staring at him, and that only made him anxious. He hated it when she stared, especially so expectantly, like she was trying to drag all of his thoughts out of him.

“Everyone around here is a little weird, Hoxxy. It’s kind’ve a gimmick we’ve got going on.” She crossed her legs, leaning back against the pantry, “But explain.”

“I don’t know, Clover. It’s just… I can’t tell what’s going on in his head sometimes. God knows I can’t ask him what he’s feeling, since he’s so roundabout with that shit.” Frustration fringed his tone as he went to put the pan on the stove to heat up.

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“Yes, I’m bad at talking about my feelings too. You don’t need to remind me.” 

“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just saying what I’m observing.” Her honesty was brutal, but part of him appreciated that about her, “But… You don’t have any idea why he’s being ‘weird’?”

He cocked his head at her, squinting.

“No, or else I wouldn’t be here asking you for advice.”

“Well, if you’re asking for advice, that’s going to cost you.” Pausing, she reached for the carton he’d set on the counter and poured what was left of it into her mug. She joked when things got serious to ease tension, that’s just how she coped with things. He was used to it by now, and could pick it apart from when she was being serious fairly easily.

“You said he was being weird though, right? This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the Christmas party, would it?” The tink of her spoon in her mug punctuated her thought nicely.

“Yeah, that’s a good chunk of it. It’s not a bad thing, I’m just wondering what happened to make him so… particular.”

Silence blanketed them both for a while. He threw his head back to stare up at the ceiling, looking at the snow collecting on the skylight, while she stared into her mug. Hoxton knew that talking to Clover about this probably wasn’t the best idea, since she was the queen of bottling emotions, but he didn’t really have anyone else to turn to. However, she eventually looked up from her cup and nudged him with her foot to get his attention.

“Yanno, maybe he’s doing all this weird shit so he can make up for lost time.”

“What?” 

“I mean, put yourself in his shoes. If I made a mistake and got Sydney in jail for two years, I’d want to make up for it in any way I could.” She clicked her tongue, leaning back again, “And considering how much you love Christmas, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was doing all of this to make up for those two he missed out on spending with you.”

The milk for the cocoa had come to a gentle boil, but he was still left to stare at her. She had a point. She had a very good point, actually. He never really considered that his weird behavior could be something as trivial as some over elaborate ‘I’m sorry for fucking up’. Though, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. That’s absolutely something Dallas would do to avoid directly discussing how he felt.

What a mess of a man. He was a mess of a man, but he was Hoxton’s mess of a man.

He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It was like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle he’d been working on for a month finally came into place all nice and snug. It was all sweet in it’s own very strange and confusing way. At least this was better than some of the alternative answers his head came up with, what little they were.

“What a jackass.” He dragged his hands down his face, smiling like an idiot, “What an absolute fucking jackass.”

“Uh, Hoxxy.” Clover raised her voice, “I know you’re having an epiphany or something, but your milk is going to boil over.” 

“Oh shit--”

The clamor he made while trying to get that pan off of the burner echoed off the walls, and if you listened closely, you could hear Clover laughing at him. Dallas wasn’t the only mess of a man in this safehouse, that was for sure.

Once he’d settled everything down, and finally took the time to actually pour the cups of hot cocoa he’d came up here for, he’d thought some more about what she’d suggested. If it was true, then there was obviously some conversations him and Dallas needed to have still. He knew that not all of their laundry had been aired, but this was some incentive for him to work on it.

Sighing, he came to lean against the counter next to Clover, wiping his hands with a towel. She was still getting some giggles out after watching him leap halfway across the kitchen. But once she relaxed, she moved to sit closer to him, thumbing the brim of her mug.

“So, are you satisfied? Or is there anything else on your mind?” She asked, nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He paused, setting the towel down on the counter, “You really do think that’s what’s going through his head, though? Sure it’s not something else?”

“Oh, I know that’s what’s going through his head. There’s no ‘think’ about it.” 

“What do you mean?”

Giggles rose up in her chest again, and with a shake of her head, she slid off of the counter. His gaze followed her as she went and set her mug in the sink and washed it out, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for her explanation. Keen on making him wait, she took a second before turning to face him again, arms crossed.

“I mean I know that’s what’s going on, because he came and asked for advice on what he should be doing differently a couple days ago, when you were out doing something.”

Oh.

Well. That explained why she was treating this situation so casually.

“He came and talked to you?” He was acting incredulous, but it made sense. There probably wasn’t anyone else better at giving Hoxton advice than she was, at least on certain select things.

“Yeah, he did. Don’t say I never did nothing for you, alright?” She flashed that tired, uniquely Clover smile at him, before finally shuffling off towards the offices to go about her nightly routine. For a little bastard, she was quite good at helping people with their problems.

Hoxton watched her go, reminding himself to thank her sometime later when his mind wasn’t as jumbled. He wanted to sit and linger on this newfound knowledge, and figure out a way to handle the whole situation. This was a much bigger can of worms than he’d originally expected, but he was still happy. Happy to know that Dallas cared enough to go out of his way to do something like this. It reminded him why he loved him so much.

However, he quickly realized he’d been taking an awfully long time on just two cups of hot chocolate. So, he took a second to gather himself, and the two mugs, before heading back down the stairs. 

He didn’t get very far, though, because Dallas was in the landing of the stairs leading up from the basement, visibly out of breath. He was using one arm to prop himself up against the doorway, and when he seen the look of utter confusion on Hoxton’s face, he tried to gather his posture.

“What’s got you all tuckered out? I was just coming back down there to--” 

Dallas cut him off by dismissing him with a wave of his hand and then, like it was a gift from god himself, held up the star that he’d been looking for. Hoxton didn’t think he’d ever be so happy to see a hunk of plastic and LED lights in his entire life. 

“I found it… It was in the very back of the closet, behind some boxes of garland. I ran up here to show you, but that wasn’t a good idea. I almost tripped.”

The both of them stared at each other for a solid twenty seconds, before a dumb grin spread on Hoxton’s face. 

“You’re a _mess_ , you big twit.” 

Shaking his head, he set the mugs down on one of the desks beside the door, before pulling Dallas over to him by his tie. He, in turn, set that damned star aside and leaned into Hoxton’s touch. Whether it was because he enjoyed his presence, or because he was cold, no one would know.

The two of them stood there in that doorway for awhile, leaning on each other. Hoxton noted Dallas’s disheveled hair, and went about combing it with his fingers. He was quite handsome, even when he was out of breath and struggling to stand up on his own. Though, neither of them would complain about being close to the other. Not now, at least.

“Hey… Listen, I’m sorry I took so long up here.” Hoxton’s voice was unusually soft for someone who tended to be so coarse, “I was talking to Clover, and I lost track of time.”

“It’s alright. We can go deal with all those boxes still slung around later.” He was sorta muffled by Hoxton’s shirt, whilst he hid his face against his shoulder. This only made him laugh a little, moving to tangle his fingers in his hair again.

“Though, she did tell me something.”

“Oh?”

“She told me all about the talk you two had.”

“Oh…” 

“Oh indeed.”

Dallas leaned back, the calm affection on his face fading away to something akin to shame. It was obvious he felt terrible about everything, but Hoxton wasn’t going to have any of it. He was feeling much too lovesick to let him sit there with a kicked puppy look.

Tentatively did Hoxton bring his hands up to cup Dallas’s face, hovering there for a short while before pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose. That was the first time he’d gotten to kiss him all day, and it felt good. It felt wonderful, in fact.

“Is it true?” He asked after a moment, swallowing the pebble of anxiety in his throat, “That you’re doing all of this for me?”

Dallas’s eyes darted all around the room. This was always the hardest part; Getting him to finally spit out his emotions. He typically wasn’t one to crack under pressure, so it was difficult at first, but Hoxton knew how to play this game with him now. So, tenderly did he shift to make him look at him again, brow furrowed. 

“Dallas, please just answer me. I’m not asking for much.”

There wasn’t really anything he could do at that point. Hoxton had him effectively trapped, and he’d just have to suck it up. Sighing through his nose, he wrapped his fingers around Hoxton’s wrist, leaning against his palm. He always took a second to think out his sentences before he blurted them out, and that was the one luxury he would let him have during this little confrontation they were having.

“I just want to do something special, for you. I can’t make up for leaving you behind and all of the other shit I’ve pulled but… I like to think that this is a good start towards… something. I hope.”

That was all he wanted to know, and hearing that from him specifically made that pang ring in his chest again. Except it was more pleasant, more warm. It felt nice, being told you mattered. A smile of relief crested over Hoxton’s face, and with a sigh did he move to peck him on the lips.

“It’s a start, sure. Even if I did have to spend five hours in a cold basement trying to find a shitty plastic star.” Dallas couldn’t help but smile, taking a moment to turn his head and press a kiss to the flat of Hoxton’s palm.

This was the nicest either of them had felt in awhile. A long while.

Slowly, the two of them shifted into a sloppy embrace, foreheads pressed together. No one was around, save for Clover up in the offices, so they were free to be as openly affectionate as they wished. Lots of smiles shared across kisses, and lots of soft squeezes on waists, and lots of breathy ‘I love you’s mumbled against necks.

Neither of them could remember who suggested turning on the radio in the garage first, or maybe it just happened wordlessly. Dallas always had a soft spot for slow dancing, even if it was to cheesy Christmas music in a dirty garage. He had hooked an arm around Hoxton’s middle, bringing him close and threading their free fingers together. Their movements were muddled, and not at all graceful, but it was good enough for the both of them.

“You want to know something funny.” Dallas spoke up after awhile, after their dancing had faded to soothing swaying.

“What’s that?” 

“I paid Clover to make sure she wouldn’t tell you we had a talk.” A laugh edged his voice, and Hoxton could feel his smile against his cheek from where he rested his head on his shoulder.

“Well, that was your first mistake. You know she’s a thief first and a friend second, right? That’s how I taught her.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He shook his head a little, before turning to press a kiss to his cheekbone, “You’re always right.”

Their chatter devolved into more lovesick mumbles, and as Hoxton felt Dallas’s heartbeat against his own, he suddenly didn’t mind that big obnoxious tree anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> ### ❄️ I hope you enjoyed reading! Comments are appreciated and encouraged! ❄️
> 
>   
>    
>  **❄️ If you liked it,[reblog it](http://swanmask.tumblr.com/post/168716578774/ao3-pining) on tumblr for me! ❄️  
> **   
> 


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